


Trouble Is A Friend

by Strawberrywaltz



Category: Dark Matter (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bonding, Boys getting into trouble, Kidnapped, M/M, Musical Slavery, Nightmares, Non-Consensual Body Modification, One has a secret talent, Pre-Slash, Slash, Slow Burn One/Three, Some Fluff, Stockholm Syndrome, Three being Three, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-21 03:22:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6035977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strawberrywaltz/pseuds/Strawberrywaltz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Three gets himself into trouble during a night out, One steps in to help. Things go from bad to worse sending the boys on an unwanted adventure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> HI! Me again. 
> 
> So this story started off as a snap shot and it grew. I hope you enjoy the whump ride!
> 
> AND I have a beta now! The lovely and talented Amber_Flicker
> 
> She has made this story so much better! (THANKS AMBER!!!)

It was a rare night of celebration after a mission gone right. The Raza was safely docked on a station where they had sold their recently stolen cargo on the black market without a single hiccup. The majority of the newly acquired credits had been used to restock and refuel the ship. The profits had been evenly split among the crew during the evening meal. 

Five and the Android had opted to stay on the ship. Five claimed she was saving her earnings, but One was fairly certain she didn’t want to hang around and watch them get wasted. The rest of the crew thought it was a perfect time to blow off some steam. It was nice to have a little space and meet new people. 

The shady nightclub they had gone to had terrible lighting, but decent alcohol. Soft sounds of piano filtered through the atmosphere as people mingled and drank. Three was already cheerful, which meant he was well on his way to completely drunk. 

Two and Six stood together at the bar. Both grinned over something shared between them. 

One smiled as he watched. The crew tended to get along a lot better when they were wasted. If only they didn’t have to deal with the hangover and whiplash of grumpiness that followed. 

Still, it was nice to get along – however briefly it lasted.

Of course that could be the beer talking. Thinking. Whatever. 

One’s gaze filtered through the crowd idly as he pressed the rim of the bottle he had been nursing to his lips. The drink was bitter, but it had a pleasantly smooth texture as it slid down his throat. After the first couple beers the taste was barely noticeable. One was happily buzzed. He leaned against the rail and wondered where Four had disappeared to. The silent man had a tendency of becoming invisible when he wanted to be. One had lost track of Four within the first fifteen minutes after the group had split up. 

“One.” Two’s voice broke One out of his obscure thought bubble. He shook his head and turned to face her. 

“You look serious.” One frowned when he focused on Two and Six as they joined him. Six looked like he wished he could disappear. His eyes were averted and he stood a little ways behind Two, as if he could hide behind her. 

“I’m taking Six back to the ship.” Two grabbed ahold of Six’s arm and pulled him to stand beside her. Six looked bashful with drunken embarrassment. Whatever Six had been drinking was probably a little stronger than beer if he was already wasted. 

“What happened?” One asked with a slur as he took another sip of bitter joy-juice. 

“I didn’t do it on purpose.” Six grinned sloppily at One and swayed dangerously enough that his two companions reached out to steady his larger frame. “It just kind of – broke.” 

“I’m sure.” One grinned back lazily as he looked at the bloody rag Six had pressed over what One guessed was a rather impressive gash. One was about to ask how the glass – at least One reasoned it had been glass of some sort – had broken when he was distracted by Two snapping her fingers in front of his face. 

“I need you to watch out for Three.” Two told One. With a frown One looked from Two to where Three had been. Three stood over by the stage, animatedly chatting with a small group of scantily clad women. For such a seedy bar they actually had a nice piano – even if the pianist had limited musical knowledge. He was mostly playing songs One suspected were supposed to be played at Carnivals. 

Two’s words sunk in slowly and One felt his buzz dim. “What? Why me?” One glanced around for Four – he’d be better suited for Three-sitting. Anyone would be a better choice for Three-sitting. It was very likely that Three would do something stupid just to piss One off. Or get One in trouble. Or he’d get One in trouble and then ditch him. The possibilities were endless. 

“Four took off.” Two read One’s mind. “He said something about the music making his ears bleed.” One dropped his head to his chest in defeat, but nodded. He was on his own. 

“Fine.” One sighed. “But you owe me.” 

“I don’t owe you a thing.” Two brushed him off and grabbed Six as he swayed again. “Come on, Android will stitch you up.” 

“But she’s so scary.” Six complained childishly as they left. One huffed as he watched the pair make way through the sea of strangers. Once alone, One aimed a sad look at his beer and reluctantly decided it would be his last of the night. Unfortunately. It was likely that he would have to carry Three back to the Raza before the new day dawned. That would only be possible if one of them could walk straight. Or remember where the Raza was docked. 

The music suddenly stuttered and finally stopped all together. One sighed, taking a generous gulp of his drink before he ventured a look. As One suspected, Three was at the center of the problem. With a grumble One pushed through the crowd of onlookers and headed down the stairs towards Three. 

“What did you do this time?” One asked when he finally broke out of the crowd and onto the scene. Three stood over the pianist, now sprawled unconscious across the floor. 

“What did I do?” Three echoed and gestured down to the unconscious man. “He attacked me. It’s not my fault he’s worse than you at the whole, fighting, thing.” 

One made a face, but decided to let the comment slide. “Fun time is over,” One told Three and reached out to grabbed his arm. “We’re going back to the ship.” 

“Who died and made you – ”

“I’m afraid, gentlemen, that you won’t be going anywhere.” A dark, suited man interrupted Three’s protest as he stepped out from the crowd to stand next to One. The man was imposing, broad-shouldered, tall and judging by the group of suited thugs that shadowed him, he was likely in charge of the club. Or in charge of something of equal importance. 

“I’m sorry for any trouble my friend has caused.” One decided to play diplomat – since Two wasn’t around to take on the responsibility. “We don’t want to cause any more trouble, so we’ll just be – ”

“As I said before,” The man calmly interrupted One, who frowned in return. “You won’t be going anywhere. You see, a club needs music and your friend just knocked out my pianist.” 

“It’s not a big loss.” Three snickered unhelpfully. 

One nodded. “He was kind of terrible.” The words slipped out before One could sensor them. “Oops. I mean – don’t listen to me. I may be drunk.” 

The man scowled. “If you cannot produce a musician to replace the one you’ve cost me you’ll be in far more than just trouble.” 

Three grabbed One and pulled him away from the suited man. “I think you can survive one night without live music.” 

“Then I hope you can survive one night without – ”

“I’ll play.” One interrupted without a second thought. Or any thought, really. 

“You’ll what now?” Three asked once the shock wore off. 

One eyed the piano and shrugged. “I can’t be any worse than he was.” One waved his beer-less hand down at the former pianist. 

“Actually, you can be.” Three protested. 

The suited man simply adjusted the cuffs of his suit and lowered his nose at One. “Let us hope so, or the consequences for you will be most unpleasant.” The man turned to his goons and gestured to One. “Make sure he doesn’t leave.” 

One frowned, “Me? He was the one who punched the guy out.” 

“I hit him with a bottle,” Three supplied unhelpfully. 

“I didn’t ask how it happened.” One shot back as the goons approached and the leader of the suited gang disappeared back into the crowd. 

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” Three asked as he was roughly relieved of his com and weapons one by one. 

“I don’t know.” One admitted as his own weapon and com were taken. “But I think I finally get what Two and the others were talking about. Like Four with his swords and Five when she fixes things – I can do this.” 

Three looked like he had shorted out. “I think you’re drunk.” 

“That’s not it.” One protested as his elbow was grabbed by the impatient meathead next to him. 

“I hope so.” Three growled as two of the goons took hold of his arms and the other dragged One up onto the stage. One took a moment to glare at his escort before he focused on the piano. Carefully he sat down on the bench and took in the black and white keys. With a frown he looked at the sheet music being projected. He pushed a button along side the projection and switched songs. 

“Okay.” One nodded and studied the music carefully. Behind him he heard his escort pop his knuckles loudly. “Okay.” He repeated, a little more insulted. “Now or never.” One muttered to himself and placed his hands on the keys. 

And then he was playing. His fingers floated over the keys as if guided by magic. It was unreal. Something clicked inside of One as he read the notes off the screen. Like he had found a part of himself that he had been missing. 

When one song finished another song appeared on the screen and One continued. No one stopped him and that was fine. One lost track of time and suddenly a hand was on his shoulder. 

“You can stop.” A mildly impressed voice said. One blinked and turned to face the suited man. Three stood behind the suited man, a goon on either side of him. A few people lingered around the area, some people were being hauled off, too drunk to stand on their own. 

Three looked annoyed, One noted. Worse, he had that look he got before things went to hell. Shit – what had happened?

“You have classical training, yes?” The suited man asked. 

“I guess.” One shrugged a shoulder. Honestly, he had no clue, not that he could tell this man that. 

“I have need someone like you,” The suited man said pointedly. “You will play.” 

“Here?” One shook his head. “I’m sorry but I – ”

“He already has a job.” Three snapped, if only to remind the group that he was still there. 

“Hush.” Suited man dismissed Three – his focus remained on One, which was a little unnerving. 

“I can’t.” One moved to stand, only to stop when a gun was leveled between his eyes. 

“You can.” Suited man smiled. “And you will. Your friend has caused much hardship to my establishment.” Suited man nodded towards Three. “You play, or he will have to pay for those troubles.” 

One glanced at Three, who was glaring at the guns pointed in his direction. 

“You can’t be serious.” One protested. 

“What.” Three growled. “Are you going to keep us locked in the storage room? Make him play here forever?” 

“Not here.” The suited man didn’t take his eyes off of One. “Your talents are suited towards a more elegant setting.” 

One didn’t like the sound of that. There was nothing elegant about this docking station or any docking station. A pair of goons appeared and seized One by the elbows. 

“His hands and arms are not to be injured.” The suited man announced and reached out and grabbed One’s jaw to better study his features. “No marks are to be made on his face – be creative if he misbehaves. Kill his friend if they try and escape, but I would prefer both of them to be alive.” 

One swallowed thickly as his face was released. He felt foolish and silently wished he’d left Three to deal with his own trouble. Or he could have at least let Two know over the com what had happened. Instead he had let his drunk mind think that he could fix the problem himself. One closed his eyes. 

“Next time, don’t help me.” Three hissed as they were lead to the back of the club. 

One shot a glare at Three. “Next time, I promise, I won’t.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the next chapter!
> 
> Agan, special thanks to my beta, Amber_Flicker!

They were forced into metal transport boxes that were sealed shut. Like cargo. Thankfully they were kept separate from one another. The last thing One wanted was for Three to give more commentary about how everything had gone from bad to worse. At least they were still alive. One was fairly certain Three would have become the entertainment of the night if someone hadn’t stepped in. 

It was uncomfortable, but eventually One fell asleep – or lost consciousness. He had been stuck in a very small space for several hours with limited oxygen. The movement woke One and finally the lid to his confinement was removed. 

“This is what I’ve found for you.” Suited man’s voice filtered into One’s foggy brain. 

“A boy?” A woman’s voice asked. She sounded rather unimpressed. One cracked open his eyes and stared up at their faces. The woman was tan, her dark, honey colored hair pulled back elegantly in a complicated braid. Her burgundy dress was rich with lace and jewels. The fabric draped over her feminine curves all the way to the floor, or so One guessed. It was hard to tell from his current, horizontal, prospective. 

“A great pianist.” Suit corrected the woman. 

“And what of his companion?” The woman asked as One and Three were hauled out of the boxes and made to kneel before the two well dressed people. 

“Leverage.” The suited man shrugged. “They were recently acquired. Not quite broken. He had many weapons in his possession, I’m sure he can be trained to become one of your guards.” 

“Trained?” Three hissed only to receive a sharp slap across the back of his head for speaking out of turn. 

The woman narrowed her eyes from Three to the suited man. “This does not cover the damages you caused my ship.” 

“But it’s enough for an extension,” The suited man pressed. 

“Yes.” The woman nodded and reached out a hand to brush the side of One’s face. “If he preforms as promised.” 

“Of course.” The suited man said. The woman turned to lead them – somewhere – and One was made to stand. The suited man grabbed his arm and squeezed painfully as he whispered in One’s ear. “If you do not play to perfection, we will all die.” 

No pressure. One gulped and nodded. He glanced at Three who looked pissed off. One had no idea if he had heard the warning. 

They were led into a large and extravagant room. One had never seen so many nice things in one place. The colors left something to be desired. The pale pastels were very feminine and the elegance of the tearoom made One feel dirty in the too-clean space. 

“Sit. Play.” The woman said and motioned the grand piano in the corner of the room as she lowered herself onto a luxurious Victorian style sofa. 

One was shoved onto the piano’s bench and breathed in deep. The notes that stared back at him on the screen were complex, far more intricate than the ones back at the nightclub. Still, he felt like he could do it. Of course this time there was little choice in the matter. 

“One.” Three called, only to receive another sharp slap against the side of his head. 

“Silence that one.” The woman said and much to Three’s displeasure. He was gagged with a thick cloth, slid between his teeth and wrapped tightly around the back of his head. “Now.” The woman demanded, sounding smug and satisfied. “Play.” 

One swallowed again and refocused on the notes before him. Gently he placed his hands onto the corresponding cords and started to play. The song was long and beautiful with complexities that caused One’s fingers to hesitate or stumble on more than one occasion. 

When the last sorrowful note faded, One swallowed and turned at the sound of a slow clap. 

“Impressive.” The woman said. “Raw talent. Raw.” She repeated the word with sharp displeasure. “You made mistakes.” 

“Yes.” One agreed – it wasn’t in his best interest to tell a blatant lie. 

“You will be punished for any mistakes.” The woman told him coldly. “Anyone who performs for me must be perfect.” She studied him with a bored expression before she seemed to make up her mind. “I’ll take him.” She announced to the suited man. One felt a shiver run up his spine. He was being sold – or something. Like a slave. 

“And the other one?” The suited man asked cautiously. 

“Kill him.” The woman said carelessly and turned away.

“I won’t play if you kill him.” One snapped so fast it made Three’s eyes widen ever so slightly in surprise.

“Feisty.” The woman said tightly. “Fine, but he is your responsibility. Anything he does will reflect on you. He will sleep in the room I assign you.”

One nodded mutely, the whole situation had started to sink in. 

“You may call me Madame. Only speak when spoken to.” She snapped her fingers and four guards stepped forward. “Show them to the old pianists room. Let us hope this one lasts longer.” The threat hung in the air as One and Three were lead away. 

The hallways were just as fancy as the piano room. Tapestries with rich designs as well as detailed impressionistic paintings littered the walls. The grandness, however, started to fade as they turned a few corners. Eventually the walls were completely bare apart from the pastel coloring. One guessed this was where the ‘hired’ help lived. 

“Inside.” One of the guards motioned once a door was open. One hesitated briefly, but entered the room. Three was shoved in after him, Three’s body collided solidly with One’s back. 

The door slammed shut without another word and the Raza men shared a look. 

One, with some reluctance, freed Three’s mouth of the gag and started to work on the ropes that bound the other man’s hands behind his back. 

“This is great, just great.” Three started to complain as soon as he was able. “Unbelievable. You had to play for her, didn’t you? What exactly didn’t you expect to happen? Did you think she would give you a nice lollypop and send us on our way?”

“I didn’t have much of a choice,” One sighed. “Mr. Suit warned me that if I didn’t play we would have all be killed.” 

Three scowled. “That might be, but, now we’re stuck on Madame Psycho’s ship.” 

One nodded glumly and once as last knot was loosened took a moment to consider their new surroundings. A single bed, a thin mattress covered by an thin blanket. Nothing decorated the walls sad grey walls. There was a desk and a chair – no rug. Cold metal floor. Not exactly comfort, but it was a glorified cell. 

One wondered briefly what had happened to the previous pianist.

“I get the bed.” Three grunted as he brushed passed One and flopped down on the hard mattress. 

“I don’t see why we can’t share it.” One pointed out, but he didn’t feel like fighting. Three tossed a pillow at One’s chest in response. One’s slow reflexes allowed the pillow to bounce gracelessly off his body and onto the floor. “Right.” One sighed, but resigned himself to sleep on the ground. One had just settled down on the cold hard floor when the door slammed open. Both of the Raza men sat up at the intrusion. 

“Pianist,” The first guard called as he stepped into the room. The second guard stayed within the frame of the door, a gun held level in Three’s direction. “Stand for your punishment.” 

One glanced at over his shoulder at Three, but stood – mostly because they were outgunned and refusing seemed foolish. 

“Take off your shirt.” The guard commanded as he unsheathed a knife. One tensed at the sight. 

“What exactly are you planning on doing with that?” Three demanded from his spot on the bed. 

“The punishment is simple.” The guard sighed, as if he wanted to be anywhere else. “One mark for each mistake.” 

One paled. Three caught the tension and tensed further. “How many mistakes did he make?” As Three asked the question, One went over the song he’d played in his head – and swallowed thickly. 

“Thirty-two.” The guard answered and motioned to One. “Remove your shirt, or I’ll be forced to remove it for you.” 

With a shaky breath One pulled his shirt over his head. 

“Stay where you are.” The man with the gun said. The words made One jump and freeze – he’d only been doing as he had been asked. It took a moment of slight panic to realize that the words had been aimed at Three. 

“You can’t be serious!” Three protested. “He didn’t even know that song!” 

“Remain silent, or we’ll round the punishment up to thirty-five marks.” The guard with the knife threatened. “Turn around.” The guard pinned his eyes on One who stood nervously, half naked with his shirt balled in his hands. 

After a moment of hesitation One nodded and turned around to face Three, who looked like he was about to jump off the bed and attack. One carefully caught Three’s eyes and slowly shook his head – they were out matched, in an unfamiliar place and had no weapons. Three would be dead before he put both feet on the ground and One would be alone. Three snarled, but complied, his expression remained murderous. 

The first cut was a surprise – it took concentration and determination not to step away from the pain. One expected the cuts to be made on the back of his shoulder below his neck, not his lower back. The sharp, scrape of pain burned as his skin was split apart. Warm blood dripped, tickling over One’s skin as gravity guided the drops downward. 

With a gasp One flinched as the next cut was made. The cuts were only two inches in length and shallow enough that they wouldn’t need stitches. They were made about an inch apart from one another. Rows stretched across his back before another one was started. It hurt effectively enough. One closed his eyes and counted in his head silently until the punishment ended. 

“I suggest you keep them clean and bandaged.” The guard said as he wiped blood off the knife with a small cloth – the other guard dropped some medical supplies on the floor. Bandages and some tubes of cream. “If the wounds get infected or you become sick, you will still be expected to play.” 

“Can I practice?” One asked before the guards could leave. He tried to ignore the blood as it dripped down his back. The warm liquid gathered at the rim of his pants as he turned to face the guard. Three growled as the damage was shown to him for the first time. Or maybe he had growled because he didn’t want One to push their incredibly poor luck. 

The guard hesitated in consideration. “I will inquire for you.” The man said finally and once again the two Raza men were left alone. Locked in a cell with no real hope of escaping. One frowned as the door’s lock clicked into place and looked down at the medical supplies. He started to bend over but stopped when his damaged skin stretched painfully. 

“Idiot.” Three appeared next to him with a scowl. One looked at him dully as Three bent down and picked up the supplies for him. “You better not bleed all over the bed.”

One blinked. “Okay.” He agreed and glanced over at the only chair available. 

“You okay?” Three’s concerned voice drew One’s thoughts away from the chair. 

“Yeah.” One mumbled, then shook his head. “No.” 

“Figured.” Three sighed and with surprising gentleness, led One over to the chair and sat him down so that his chest faced the backrest. “At least they didn’t dig the blade in too deep.” Three grumbled as he looked over the small wounds. “How the hell did you make so many mistakes? It sounded fine to me.” 

“It was a complicated piece of music.” One started to shrug, but stopped when the movement irritated his painful back. “I’m actually surprised the number wasn’t higher.” 

Three didn’t say anything, but pressed something against the cuts. One inhaled sharply, but bit his tongue to keep quiet. He’d already caused enough trouble. Plus he was grateful Three had offered to help him – One had thought he’d have to deal with the wounds himself. Three did not have the hands of a doctor. He was clumsy and harsh in his treatments, but he got the job done. 

“Should I – I don’t know, disinfect them?” Three asked. One looked over his shoulder, careful about the movement, and looked at the bottle Three held in his hand. Alcohol. It would hurt, a lot, but it was necessary. One nodded and watched Three go a shade paler as he uncapped the bottle. One turned his head back and stared straight forward. 

One tried not to scream, but the broken sound escaped despite his best efforts. The pain burned like Three had set One’s back on fire. Three stopped after the initial reaction and One shook his head. “Just keep going.” After a moment of hesitation, Three continued. By the end of the torturous treatment, One hung limp against the back of the chair, his breath coming and going in heavy pants. 

“Sit up.” Three said tensely. “I need to wrap them.” 

Slowly One gathered what was left of his strength and pushed himself upright with a groan. “Sorry – for getting us in this mess.” One offered sincerely as Three wrapped the bandages around his torso. 

“It’s not completely your fault.” Three mumbled. 

“I’m sorry,” One turned his head back to look at Three. “Did you just – ”

“Don’t let it go to your head.” Three snapped grumpily. “But I apparently was getting too friendly with that pianists girlfriend. She wasn’t even my type.” He sighed and finished his task by tying off the bandage a little harsher than necessarily. “If I hadn’t knocked the moron out, you wouldn’t have gotten us here.” 

One narrowed his eyes, but nodded. “Yeah.” He sighed and leaned his chest forward against the backrest in front of him. “I was actually excited – before all this. I finally had that moment of knowing I could do something. Too bad it ended up like this.” 

“Yeah,” Three scoffed. “Too bad. Come on.” He motioned for One to stand and reluctantly One obeyed, surprised when Three started to lead him towards the bed. 

“What, you aren’t going to make me sleep on the floor?” One asked, shocked. 

“No, you idiot.” Three shoved One face down on the mattress forcefully. “Now shut up about it.” 

One eyed Three from his awkward, sprawled position on the bed. Gingerly he made room for Three and waited. Three eyed the space and scowled again, but eventually laid down, but kept a safe amount of space between them. 

“Get some sleep.” Three grumbled and turned his back to face away from One’s prone form. 

A flicker of a smile lit One’s lips, but faded away as sleep rushed in and claimed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> TBC.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to my beta Amber_Flicker!

A sharp cry startled One out of the comfort of sleep. With a groan One squeezed his eyes shut and tried to loosen the painful tension that clawed at his back. Beside him Three hissed and twitched in his sleep. The space that had separated their bodies had closed significantly as Three moved. One frowned as he studied at the other man through blurry eyes – Three was still asleep, but struggling. 

Another sharp sound escaped Three’s parted lips and his whole body flinched violently. One was frozen, unsure of what to do. It sunk in slowly that Three was in the middle of an intense nightmare. One wanted to wake Three, but hesitated. That would definitely piss Three off. Likely anything One did would piss Three off. 

The distressed noises continued and finally One made up his mind and shouted, “Hey!” 

Three bolted upright at the intrusive sound. The burst of sudden movement bounced the bed, which made One moan in regret. Maybe that hadn’t been the best way to wake up Three, but it was all he could think of – it wasn’t like he had anything he could have thrown to startle Three out of his dream. 

“What the hell?” Three demanded as soon as he realized he’d been woken up by One. 

One pushed himself up on one elbow and twisted his body back so he could look at Three. It was painful, but necessary. “You snore.” One lied. He’d already decided not to press Three about whatever nightmare he’d dreamed up. It wasn’t like Three would tell him and they were already stuck in close quarters together. One didn’t want to make their situation any more awkward than it already was. 

Three narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but One laid turned away and laid back down, his face turned away. Eventually One felt Three settle back down next to him. 

“How’s the back?” Three asked after a stretch of silence. 

“I’ll live.” One closed his eyes. He had no idea how his back was, actually. It hurt, but it was bearable – if he didn’t move. 

“You know what I wish I could see?” Three asked vaguely. One turned his head in silent question. Three grinned. “I wish I could see that suited bastard’s face when Two kicks the shit out of him.” 

A small smile appeared on One’s lips as the images popped into his own mind. “Yeah.” He agreed. “Maybe Five can hack the system, get the footage for us when we get out of here.” 

“Yeah.” Three sighed out the word and resumed staring up at the ceiling in brooding silence.

The team was coming. 

One hoped. 

__

The rest of the night was uneventfully quiet. One dozed on and off, but Three stayed wide awake. Eventually the door to their cell opened and the Raza men watched three guards enter the room. A gun was immediately leveled at Three who growled in frustration, but otherwise didn’t move. 

“Pianist,” The only guard who ever spoke, said. “Stand and come with us.” 

“I go where he goes.” Three announced from the bed stubbornly. 

The guard sighed, “No, you will remain here. We are to fit him with proper clothes. He’ll be back in time for your evening meal.” At least the guard was willing to explain the situation. Being fitted for new clothing didn’t sound overly terrible so One slowly swung his legs over the side of the bed to stand.

“Not happening.” Three moved to stand as well, which prompted the third guard to level a second gun at Three. One’s heart froze as he reached out and grabbed Three’s arm forcefully. 

“Getting yourself killed isn’t going to help anything.” One whispered. With a sigh, One focused on the non-mute guard. “I’ll go.” He announced and stepped forward, only for Three to hold him back. 

“Back at the club, Two told me to look after you.” Three told One quietly. “So that’s what I’m going to do.” 

One’s expression softened. “Funny. She also told me to watch out for you. I’ll come back.” The two Raza men shared a meaningful look before Three reluctantly let go. One slowly walked to the guard at the door. He motioned for One to turn around and produced metal cuffs that he snapped onto One’s wrists. Without the expected aggression, the man pulled One from the room and into the hallway. 

The door clicked when the lock slipped into place, separating One and Three. One felt a little distressed at the thought. What if something happened to Three while he was off doing – whatever?

“Your friend won’t be harmed, so long as you both cooperate.” The guard promised as he gently led One by the elbow through the halls. One studied the stranger, but kept silent. The guard was slightly taller than One and had Three’s muscular figure. Unlike Three the man’s skin was golden, his hair a copper color. His face was shaved clean and his eyes were an interesting shade of storm-grey, almost silver near the pupils. 

At first glance all of the guards had the same dark uniform, but the copper haired man had two tiny bronze stars pinned over his heart. It was clear to One that he was in charge of the trio. 

The man seemed sincere enough in his promise that Three wouldn’t be harmed. Although One had his own reservations. Asking Three to cooperate was like asking someone to hold their breath – indefinitely. 

Slowly they made their way through a string of hallways. One took it all in and kept his eyes open for any signs of a shuttle bay. If they could break out of the cell a shuttle would be their best bet to escape. Of course neither Three or One could pilot anything to save their lives. 

When One got back to the Raza he vowed to convince Six to teach him how to fly the Marauder. One hoped any ship they found could be easily switched over to auto-pilot. 

One refocused when it was clear they had arrived at their destination. 

“This is what you bring me?” A heavily accented man demanded as they entered a room filled with fabric of every color and mirrors – countless mirrors. The man in question was thin and severe, his beard made One think of a stereotypical villain, the ends of his mustache even curled at the points. 

“This is Madame’s new pianist.” The copper-haired guard announced to the unhappy man. 

Mustache made a face. With slim fingers he pulled and poked at One and his clothing. Mustache cursed under his breath, but acceptance flooded his features. “Fine. I’ve worked with worse. At least he has a pretty face.” The man’s claws wrapped around One’s chin briefly before they shoved him back. 

One frowned at the treatment, but held his tongue as he was forced to stand in the middle of the room. Floor length mirrors were pushed forward to surround him and One was assaulted by his reflections. On the bright side the copper-haired guard finally freed One’s hands, but a gun was drawn on him. These people were really overestimating his fighting skills. 

“Strip.” Mustache demanded sharply. The short man emphasized his words by pointing a pair of frighteningly large scissors in One’s direction. One hesitated, not enjoying the idea of being mostly naked – he hoped mostly naked – in front of strangers. Slowly, stiffly, One obeyed. 

“What is that?” Mustache scoffed when One stood in his underwear. “I need a blank canvas! Nothing – not a stitch. Take it off.” 

One stared, first at Mustache and then at the gun still aimed in his direction. Having little choice in the matter, One stripped off the last of his clothes, leaving him naked and vulnerable in front of four strangers. Mustache circled One like a vulture, studying every part of him. One shivered and kept his eyes down. 

“I see you’ve already been punished.” Mustache poked violently at Three’s bandage-job – One cringed at the pain the sharp finger caused. “Why even bother giving this one a wardrobe? He won’t last the month. Maybe not even the first week.” 

“It is not your position to question Madame.” The guard huffed – bored. “Do your job, Cezor. Or Madame will space you and find someone to take your place.” 

Cezor inflated – or maybe that was his ego. “No one is capable of replacing me!” 

If it were possible, One imagined the small, evil little man would spit fire. 

“Fine. I’ll make him look like prince – instead a piece of star trash.” 

One stood up a little straighter at the insult, but Cezor, who One decided looked more like a Mustache, hurried from the room to gather whatever supplies were necessary. 

“Some people just lack a certain vision.” The copper-haired guard smirked at One who frowned in return. “He’s always been dramatic. It’s rather easy to manipulate dramatic people to do what you want, if you know what buttons to press.” 

The guard watched One as Cezor reentered the room with a dance of motion. One didn’t have a lot of time to contemplate the guard’s motives as Cezor worked. One was turned, stretched, measured – twice – and scolded for not being perfect at every tuck and tug. 

When it was finally over, hours later, One was exhausted from standing for so long without food or water. Released from Cezor’s clutches, One was given a pair of grey colored dress pants and a deep blue button down shirt to wear. His old clothes, he was told, had been destroyed. 

“Better.” Madame’s silky voice announced as she entered the room. One felt himself tense under the woman’s scrutiny. 

Cezor bowed in respect, the action flourished and posed. “I did my best with what I had to work with.” 

“I’m sure you appreciated the challenge.” Madame dismissed the cleverly covered complaint with a flick of her wrist. One noticed how Cezor seethed, but bit his tongue to keep from smirking. 

Madame circled One slowly. “Stand up straight.” She commanded and One complied, despite how tired he was. He felt faint – his mouth desert dry. 

The steely woman moved to stand directly in front of One and he did his best not to flinch away. “His eyes.” She said after a moment of study. “Change them. Make the color, something pretty.” 

Change? One was pretty sure he didn’t like the sound of that. 

“I’ll take him by the lab once he’s fed.” The guard promised the severe woman as she left the room. The copper-haired guard turned and gently grabbed One by the wrists to reattach the metal cuffs from before. Thankfully the man had decided to secure them in front of One. “If you behave, we won’t have to do this every time you leave a room.” The guard told One – his voice was soft with understanding. “You don’t have to live like a captive, if you can prove you can obey.” 

“Fall into line like a good slave?” One asked quietly. He didn’t plan to be there long enough to need to acclimate. 

“Yes.” The guard smiled brightly, as if he felt like he’d made some sort of breakthrough. “Your life can be very pleasant here.” 

One frowned. “And what about my friend?” He asked carefully, as if he were truly considering the offer.

“If you can control him, his life will be good as well.” The guard promised. “Madame might even find a place for him among her staff. For now, he is a reflection of you. If you do well, he will do well in turn.” 

“Right.” One sighed and allowed himself to be lead back out into the hall with his assigned trio of guards. Once they arrived back at One’s cell his hands were freed and the door was unlocked an open. “We’ll bring you both food.” The guard whispered in One’s ear and pushed him gently inside. 

The door shut and Three materialized by One’s side. “What the hell happened?” 

One sighed and headed directly for the bed. “Nothing.” Stiffly he crawled onto the bed and laid face down into the pillow. 

“Nothing? You were gone for – ever – and that’s all you have to say about it?” Three complained – nagged. Nagged sounded closer to the truth. 

“They took me to a tailor,” One groaned, his words muffled by the pillow pressed against his mouth. “An evil, mustache of a man who treated me like a human sized doll and I do not want to talk about it.” 

For once in his life, Three was silent. Of course, the reprieve was short lived. “You – he – what? Played dress up?” Three broke into a fit of hysterical laughter that made One’s skin crawl in annoyance. “Here I thought they were torturing you for your poor piano skills! Not giving you dress up clothes! They look nice by the way, those pants really do something for that ass of yours.” 

“Yes.” One squirmed a little without bothering to raise his head. He had half a mind to try and cover himself with a blanket, but the thought was quickly abandoned. It required too much movement. “The whole situation is hilarious.” One grumbled, still face first in the pillow.

“You okay?” Three asked after he’d sobered up a bit. 

“Tired.” One breathed. “I’d like to sleep before I have to endure anymore of this – crap.” 

“Fine.” Three flopped on the bed next to One. The motion caused One’s body to bounce. “It’s not like I’ve been stuck here alone all day and haven’t had anything to do.” 

“I’m sorry you were so inconvenienced.” One moaned and turned his head away form where Three sat. 

The door opened behind One, but he didn’t move beyond a simple flinch at the noise. Three flinched as well, but otherwise remained stationary. “Food? Finally.” Three’s voice grinned just as the door clicked shut. One didn’t look up, but it was safe to assume that the food the helpful guard had promised had arrived. One didn’t have the energy to get a visual confirmation. 

Three stood. One knew this because the weight shifted on the bed making his battered body jump again. One groaned and squeezed his eyes shut in protest. 

“Don’t you want some?” Three’s voice asked as he flopped back down on the bed. Judging by the poor structure of the words, Three had his mouth full. One sighed, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge his roommate. “One.” Three’s voice dropped all it’s humor, prompting One to finally look over at the man. “You need to eat something.” 

With a sigh One finally put his hands under his exhausted body and pushed himself upright. “Okay.” One agreed. He did need food – even if the thought of food made him feel sick. 

The food they had been given looked and smelt better than anything they had on the Raza. Protein bars could only be prepared in so many ways – and most of those ways tasted like crap. None of the Raza crew could cook to save their lives and fresh fruit was expensive. Even as glorified slaves they had each been given a shinny green apple – not that Three was overly interested in eating his. 

“Dehydrated fruit tastes better.” Three shrugged, but One got the impression that he was doing One a favor. 

“Thanks.” One said carefully and in return, gave Three the fresh strawberries on his plate. 

“Not bad.” Three smacked his lips when they had finished. One nodded mutely in agreement. Three placed the empty trays near the door and rejoined One on the bed. “Still can’t wait until we get out of this mess, though.” 

“What?” One smirked. “Miss your guns?” 

“Of course!” Three scowled playfully. “That suited bastard better have handed my babies over to Two.” 

One snorted and laid back down, his face aimed towards Three. “Your poor babies.” He mocked Three lightly. 

“Damn straight.” Three grinned back. “Maybe I should check your back?” Three asked, the smile slipping a little. 

One closed his eyes – unable to keep them open. “It’s fine.” He whispered as he drifted away.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to my beta Amber_Flicker!

The peaceful embrace of sleep was short lived.

“He’s exhausted.” Three’s angry words shoved One back into wakeful reality. “Why don’t you come back later? Or never. Yep – let’s go with never.” 

One blinked away the last remnants of sleep. Slowly he turned his head and twisted his stiff body to look at the intruders. One winced when his tired mind recalled something about a ‘lab’ and changing his eye color. 

The thought of his eyes being changed made One’s heart race, but there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“He can either come willingly or we will take him by force.” The copper-haired guard threatened, his sharp grey eyes narrowed dangerously at Three. 

One squeezed his eyes shut at the pure helplessness of the situation. Even if he did resist, the outcome would end the same – or worse, they could be killed. 

“Its fine.” One managed to get his tongue to work – though the words were slightly sloppy. “I’ll go.” If only to keep Three out of trouble, One thought to himself. Plus, pissing off copper-hair didn’t seem like the best plan. They needed someone on their side and the copper-haired guard seemed friendly enough. When he wasn’t exacting Madame’s ‘punishment’ anyway. Three locked his glare onto One, but backed down with his arms crossed over his chest in apprehension. 

Slowly One managed to slide off the bed and onto his feet. His back burned when his skin moved too much or his muscles flexed under the wounds. One sent a ‘don’t worry’ gaze to Three, who met the look with his, ‘you’re an idiot’ scowl. One offered up his wrists for the cuffs and was led out the door. 

Down the hall in the opposite direction of Cezor’s lair, the guards brought One to the ‘lab.’ 

“You should be able to rest here.” The helpful guard told One quietly as they entered the sketchy lab. “After the procedure you won’t be allowed to move for a few hours.” The room looked a lot like the Raza’s medical bay – with some added machinery and strangely colored vials of liquid displayed in a case off to the side. 

A metal bed waited for One at the center of the room. One chose to ignore it as long as possible. Nothing good was going to happen when he laid down on it, of that One was certain.

“Ah, the new pianist.” A cheerful female voice chimed as a young woman entered the room. She was strikingly beautiful, but in an unnatural way. One felt disturbed as he looked at her – the girl looked plastic. There was even a artificial shine to her skin. “My, you are a looker. A little skinny and far too pale, but you do have a nice face.” The woman formed a smile on her perfect lips. Her sharp, symmetrical eyes were bright and calculating as she took One in. “What are we modifying today, Simon?” She asked the copper-haired guard. 

Simon returned her smile politely. “Cezor suggested his eyes might be better suited as another color.” 

One shivered as the woman approached him with a steady gaze. “Yes, I agree. Something lighter. Green maybe? Or blue?” She turned her own pale eyes onto Simon. “What do you think?” 

Simon turned to One, meeting his gaze. After a moment of serious contemplation, Simon smiled. “Hazel? With a base of light blue and a mix of darker green around the rim. But I’ll let you make the final call, Brice, you are the expert.” 

The woman, Brice, grinned a sickly perfect grin and nodded. “The best of both worlds. Strap him on the table and we’ll get started.” She turned away, apparently to prepare for the procedure and One felt his heart start to race. 

“Please don’t.” One begged quietly, his warm brown eyes pleading for Simon to have a change of heart. One didn’t want this. There was a lot of things he wanted to change about this horrible situation, but this wasn’t something that could be easily fixed. 

Simon smiled kindly, “This really isn’t the worst procedure. It barely hurts and the side effects are not normally too terrible. We’ve all had work done, just be grateful you have such a beautiful face.” 

One’s heart leapt in his throat as the guards pulled him towards the table. His hands freed only to be secured to the flat metal surface. There was no point to resist – mostly because One’s entire plan of getting out of there required that he appear to be as ‘accepting’ as possible. 

Along with his legs and arms, his head was also secured in some sort of brace. When Simon noticed One’s breathing was bordering on panic he gave One’s arm a reassuring squeeze. “It’s important that you don’t move – I promise it’s for your best interest.” 

One swallowed thickly, but decided to keep whatever dignity he had left and not beg to be freed. 

Brice reappeared with a tray in hand. From One’s vantage he couldn’t see what was on the trey, which was probably for the best. He’d learn soon enough. 

“Oh look at him,” Brice’s eyes ‘softened’ as they looked down at One. “He’s positively frightened!” She smiled that sickly smile of hers and revealed a syringe. “I think I can remedy that.” The needle was inserted into the vein in One’s arm with a pinch – numbness was injected. It bled into his veins and spread quickly – leaving One feeling cold. 

“Some people just aren’t meant to be completely awake during these procedures.” Brice said as One’s body started to slow down, the panic replaced by an eerie calm. “Unfortunately he needs to be mostly awake.” 

Suddenly there was a light overhead and the voices started to blur and the faces above him smeared. Everything felt echoed and wavy. He wished Three was with him – although was equally as grateful his crewmate was safely locked away. 

A needle appeared, it looked larger than he thought possible as it inched towards his right eye. One wanted to tense, to flinch away, but found he couldn’t. His body was as limp as a doll. Someone held his eyes open as the needle broke through the surface of his eye. One cried out and someone shushed him, petting a hand through his hair. The process repeated four times, twice in both eyes, by the time it was over One felt like crying, but thankfully couldn’t. 

The blurs and smears caused by the drug had worsened after the procedure had finished. Brice wrapped them up with a cloth, keeping his eyes open under the bandages. The darkness was welcomed, but One didn’t like the fact that he still couldn’t move. 

“Rest.” Simon’s voice told him as fingers ran through One’s hair. “You’ll need time for the dye to settle and the numbing drug to wear off.” 

Unable to fully panic, One did the only thing he could do – he slept. 

__

One woke to the feeling of the bandages being removed. “There they are.” Brice’s blurry face stood above him when One could blink. “Beautiful. I really out did myself. How’s your vision?” 

“Foggy,” One croaked out through a painfully dry throat. His back ached from laying on his wounds and his eyes burned from the procedure. 

“That should pass. Lucky you! No swelling, I must say this might be my best work yet!” Brice told him cheerfully. “You can move around now, so Simon is going to take you back to your room. You can expect your eyes to burn for the rest of the day – possibly on and off for the next week, it’s always hard to tell. Although it’s unlikely, you may experience sharp sensitivity to light, migraines, dizziness, nausea and blurred vision while your eyes get used to their new look. These symptoms can unfortunately last up to a month after the procedure, but you shouldn’t worry. Stress will only make the symptoms worse!” 

One felt ice form in his gut as he listened to her. 

“If the color starts to leak outside of your irises make sure you let Simon know right away.” Brice added as Simon and one of his fellow guards undid the straps that held One down. “It’s been a pleasure working on you!” 

One remained silent as he was helped into a sitting position. He had nothing to say. His head hurt and the room spun, but that didn’t stop the guards from getting him to stand and start down the hall. They didn’t even bother to strap his hands in cuffs this time. Simon practically held One up as they made their way. Even if One felt like trying to fight and get free, One doubted he’d make it two steps on his own. 

By the time they reached the cell, One was able to hold more of his own weight, but he still couldn’t see more than blobs of color. 

“I won’t be able to play.” One panicked sharply as Simon reached to unlock the door. Simon hesitated and looked back at his charge with an understanding smile. 

“You have the rest of tonight and tomorrow to recover.” The guard promised. “You won’t have to play again until tomorrow night. I might even get you some time to practice tomorrow, if you’re feeling up to it.”

One nodded, he had a feeling he’d need all the practice he could get. 

The door was opened and One was led inside, left standing there as the door was shut and locked behind him. 

The dimmer lighting made it impossible for One to really make out anything in the room. Still in a daze, One wasn’t prepared when someone grabbed his arm. He flinched back, forgetting that the door was so close and slammed his back into the metal. With a cry of pain and shock One tried to snatch his arm back. 

“Whoa, hey!” Three’s surprised yelp broke through One’s panic. Two hands grabbed One’s wrists in an attempt to get him to stop moving – fighting – whatever One was doing. 

Breathing harshly, One stopped moving, if only because it hurt too much to do so. “Three.” He breathed out and made an effort to slow the breaths that followed. 

“Yeah, what the – your eyes?” 

“Can’t see that well.” One admitted. “They – did something.” 

“No shit.” Three breathed. Silence followed and Three gently took hold of One’s wrists again and led him over to the bed. “Do they hurt?” 

“A little.” One whispered as his hand was shown the bed and he managed to crawl on top of it. One slowly felt his way to the pillow he so desperately missed. “Head’s starting to hurt.” He added hesitantly as he laid down on his chest. He paused once his face touched the pillow. “Do they – look bad?” One asked reluctantly as he looked over at Three – or at least the mass of brown colors One was fairly certain was Three. 

“Um,” Three paused as he joined One on the bed. “Different. They look, yeah, different.” 

One’s heart sank and he turned his face away from Three. 

“Not bad different!” Three tried to recover, but One just closed his eyes shut, willing the world to disappear. “I mean, it’ll just take some getting used to. Look, let’s not focus on that – let’s think about how we can get out of here so things like this can stop happening.” 

One sighed into the pillow. “Simon said if I behave they won’t cuff me every time they take me from the room.” 

“Good.” Three said. “That’s good. Yes, okay. So you’ve been doing pretty good so far. Have you been paying attention to where they take you?” 

“Yeah.” One finally turned his head back in Three’s direction. “I haven’t seen any signs of a shuttle bay. Yet. That might change.”

“Okay. Keep your eyes open.” Three grumbled, suddenly unhappy. 

“I’m sorry.” One frowned. “Its not like I have power over where they take me.” 

“It’s not that.” Three sighed. “I wish I could do something. I’m kind of going out of my mind here.” 

One paused, realizing for the first time how Three might feel. Being stuck in a room, unable to do anything while One was going through everything. “It’s not your fault.” 

“It kind of is.” Three mumbled. 

“Maybe.” One tried to smile, but it fell short. “My attempts to save you have not gone very well.” 

“Nope.” Three agreed whole-heartedly. “I think it’s safe to say that you suck at rescues.” 

“No argument here.” One sighed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to my Beta Amber_Flicker!

They were given two more meals as the day stretched on. One didn’t show much interest in the food. He felt queasy any time he moved his head and the room started to spin any time he opened his eyes. Three bugged him until he managed to eat something, but his stomach couldn’t tolerate much. 

One’s eyes burned less as time moved forward, but he was still prone to headaches and dizzy spells that kept him confined to the bed. 

That night Three suffered another nightmare, which One woke him from. 

“Do you want to talk about them?” One asked quietly as they laid together in the dimly lit room. 

“Nope.” Three answered. 

One was quiet, but he didn’t want to just let it go. The silence was getting old and he was starting to feel restless. “Are your nightmares always this bad? Or is it just – ”

“One.” Three turned his back to him, “Shut the hell up.” 

One sighed, but respected Three’s request. One was still getting used to the fact that big, bad Three had nightmares. Violent nightmares. Thinking back, One tried to place a time when he had noticed Three showing signs of sleep deprivation. In all honesty, One had never paid enough attention. The thought was sobering and it left One feeling more guilty than he thought possible. Who looked after Three? From the moment they had all woken up Three had wanted an ally, but had he ever found someone? Four maybe? 

The door opened signaling the entrance of Simon and his entourage. Slowly One and Three sat up and waited for instruction. Simon eyed them before he motioned to One. “You may practice now.” 

One nodded and moved to stand, but hesitated. “Can Three come?” He asked Simon. 

“Three?” Simon questioned and One pointed to Three as an explanation. “Oh, that’s your name.” Confusion lit Simon’s features but he considered. “I will allow it. If you both agree to behave.” 

“Sure.” Three forced the word through a clenched jaw. One simply nodded and offered up his wrists to be bound by the cuffs. Three smirked and mimicked One’s show of submission. The two Raza men were led down the hall, a different way, to a small room with minimal décor compared to the tearoom. The metal walls were decorated with alternating shades of pink strips. Paintings and mirrors were hung tastefully on the wall and a few plush chairs were gathered around a small, glass-top table. In the corner sat a baby grand piano, cream colored to match its surroundings. 

“This a private tearoom.” Simon explained. “You will both be locked in for two hours. We will retrieve you when that time has ended.” 

One nodded, the cuffs were removed and the trio of guards left them alone. 

“One cell to another, more girly, cell.” Three complained. “I think I hate pink.” 

“Did you ever like it?” One asked with a smirk as he sat down at the piano. His head throbbed lightly, but the pain was bearable. He could see, mostly, so things were looking up.

Three shrugged and grabbed the back of one of the chairs and dragged it next to One and sat down. “Maybe – on the right body.” 

“Of course.” One rolled his eyes, which in turn made the room spin. He gripped the side of the bench to keep from toppling over and waited for everything to stop. With a groan One decided not to attempt that again. With a slight shake of his head he refocused on the sheet of music being projected on the piano. It was another complicated piece, almost an hour long in length. 

One frowned and started to play. His fingers twisted wrong on several occasions, making him bristle and his heart race. Half way through the song One sat as tense as a bowstring. His back hurt and his eyes burned from following the notes. 

When One finished he let the sound of the last chord ring out and winced deeply with panic. He couldn’t do this – he was going to – 

“Not bad!” Three clapped his hands together. “I mean, the song went on forever, but it sounded pretty good.” 

“Good?” One paled and looked back at his companion. “I made over a hundred and fifty mistakes.” 

Three lost his smile and a few shades of color. “How the hell? That’s not – ”

“Good. Not good. It’s a disaster.” One felt like his lungs were shriveling up. “I can’t do this! If Two and the others don’t get here soon – ”

“Hey!” Three broke through One’s panic. One turned his eyes to his fellow captive and tried to catch his breath as he listened. “You are good at this.” Three said. “You were counting your mistakes – that was your problem.” 

One looked down at his hands as he considered what Three said. “How can I not count?” 

“Relax.” Three told him with a shrug. “Don’t think too much. Back at the club, you weren’t thinking about it, you just let it happen, right?” 

One thought back to that night and nodded. “Yeah.” He breathed. “Yeah I knew I could do it, so I did it.” 

“Right, so play it again, but this time don’t think about it.” Three instructed. “Just enjoy it. Like you did the first time you played.” 

“Okay.” One nodded and shook the tension from his fingers. “Okay.” He repeated and refocused on the piece of music and started to play. This time his fingers took over as he read the notes. He trusted himself to find the right keys. It was beautiful. Instead of being stressful, One let the sound of the piano sooth him. 

The tension in his back died down halfway through the song. All that plagued One was the burning of his eyes, but he supposed that was unavoidable. 

When the finally note rang out One took his hands off the black and white keys and smiled. 

“How many mistakes did you make?” Three asked. 

“Only a few.” One looked at him with a grin. “Maybe we’re not doomed after all.” 

“Keep that up and we should last long enough for the Raza to finally show up.” Three nodded and stood. “Our escorts should be here soon.” He frowned, glanced at One and then the mirror. “You feeling brave enough to check out your new eyes?” 

One’s happy feeling died, but he nodded and stood on shaky legs. Slowly he joined Three before the mirror and took a breath and looked at his reflection. Gone was the warm brown he had become accustomed to seeing. Replacing the warm darkness was an unfamiliar icy blue rimmed with a dark blue-green. 

It was unnatural, but there was a certain beauty about the colors. The green and the blue slowly faded into one another. The darkest of green rimmed around the edge of the iris and lightest contrasted against his pupil. 

“See?” Three tried to smile. “It’s not that bad – just, different.” 

The door opened and One was grateful for the excuse to tear his eyes away from the mirror. Simon smiled despite the guns pointed at them. “Time to go.” He announced needlessly and with some reluctance the Raza men turned their wrists over to be cuffed. 

They arrived back at the room and Three was freed and pushed inside. The door was shut between them before One realized what had happened. One frowned at Simon who leaned in closer as he freed One’s wrists. “Your friend seems to care about you.” 

One didn’t like the fact that he had been separated from Three so that Simon could tell him that, but decided to hold his tongue. 

Simon smiled. “Does he make you happy?” 

Something twisted inside of One at the question – not just because One felt Simon was moving from helpful to creepy, but also because of the cold realization that – yeah – Three did make him happy. Three also made him frustrated, angry and sad, but sometimes…

“I could make you happy.” Simon promised. “I could keep you safe.” One swallowed thickly, uncomfortable and not sure how to answer. Simon smiled. “Think about it.” He whispered and nodded to his fellow guard who opened the door. 

Once One was safely inside their cell Three growled something One didn’t really hear. It wasn’t meant for him, but the guards. If someone answered Three, One didn’t hear it. The door closed and they were alone. 

“What the hell was that?” Three demanded, breaking One out of his thoughts. 

One looked up at him and shook his head. “I think we have a new problem.” 

“Great.” Three mocked cheerfully. “What now?” 

“I think Simon might – ” One shook his head. This was ridiculous. 

“Simon might what?” Three pressed with arms crossed over his chest. “Who’s Simon?” 

“The guard that has vocal chords.” One brushed by Three and sat down on the bed. “Never mind – I’m, I’m not even sure.” 

“Yeah, you are.” Three narrowed his eyes. “Just tell me.” 

“He – may have suggested that he wanted to,” One hesitated. “Make me happy. Protect me.” One looked away, he felt – embarrassed. 

Three’s eyebrows arched. “This could actually be good.” 

One gaped back at him. “Are you serious?” 

“Yeah,” Three nodded. “Think about it, we can manipulate this to our advantage. Get him to ‘help’ you, help us to get the hell out of here.” 

Unsure, One winced and looked away. 

“Hey, you’re just going to have to deal with it.” Three told him. “Just act like you have been and try not to cringe too much if he grabs your ass.” 

“And you’re okay with this?” One asked. 

Three paused, but nodded. “Stop being such a pansy. I’m okay with this and you should be okay with it to. If this gets us out of here – you need to do it. Got it?” 

Reluctantly One nodded. He didn’t like it, but Three had a point, he needed to do whatever it took to get them out of this mess. After all, One had caused this, mostly, he needed to fix it. 

It hurt though, to hear that Three was willing to dangle him out in front of a stranger. Like bait. 

“I need to check your back.” Three broke the silence and moved to the small stash of medical supplies they had left on the desk. One didn’t respond, still caught up in his head over what he had to do when Simon returned. He cringed. Three dumped the supplies on the bed beside him. “Get your shirt off.” 

Slowly One leaned back and started to unbutton the shirt. The cuts inched, but had mostly been healing. Three was surprisingly vigilant about them. Once One’s shirt was off, Three undid the bandage and started to treat the thirty-two wounds. 

“No infection.” Three shrugged. “At least, nothing looks red and angry.” 

“At least something is going our way.” One sighed and raised his arms so that Three could rewrap them. 

“Rest up,” Three slapped One’s shoulder and gathered up the supplies. “You have a big night ahead of you.” 

__ 

One managed a short nap before Simon came to get him. “You will both be fed after.” The guard explained before One was taken from the room. He was led to Cezor’s lair and dressed in a proper suit. The material was as soft as butter and conformed to One’s figure like a second layer of skin. Simon grinned at him, but thankfully kept his hands to himself. 

Madame swept into the room. She was wearing a dress fit for royalty. Silver with purple jewels stitched into the fabric. Her hair was half up in a twisted web of braids, with the rest of the honey strands hanging in gentle curls over her shoulders. 

She studied One thoroughly. “The color suits him.” Madame decided after staring into his eyes for a long, awkward moment. One felt uncomfortable as she ran her hands over his face and clothes. “Yes, almost perfect.” She pursed her lips. “You understand the consequences of preforming poorly tonight, correct?” 

One nodded once and stared straight ahead. 

“Good.” Madame told him and clapped her hands together. “I’ll leave him in your capable hands, Simon.” She announced and strolled out of the room followed only by the click of her heels. 

Simon stepped in front of One and tipped his head. “Are you nervous?” 

“Wouldn’t you be?” One asked simply. 

“Yes.” Simon agreed. “But I do not have your talent.” 

The compliment tickled One’s heart as he glanced at his reflection in the mirror. His strange new eyes stared back at him and that ‘good’ feeling quickly died. Without another word One was led to the concert hall. 

“Passengers.” Simon explained as they waited behind a curtain. One had peeked behind the fabric and stared out over the vast crowd of fancily dressed people and heavily decorated tables. “You’ll play for them periodically during the voyage.” 

“This is a transport vessel?” One asked curiously. He was desperately trying to hold on to his curiosity, because panic and fear threatened to take over. Playing in front of small room full of people had been fine. Back at the club most of the people had been too drunk to really pay attention. Here, however, everything was different. There was someone out there demanding that he be perfect.

Simon smiled brightly – unaware or pointedly ignoring One’s inner battle. “Not quite. It’s not really about the destination for the passengers. Many times our ship returns to the same port it left from. It’s about the experience. Madame has events, entertainment, and other pleasures for the passengers to enjoy.” One shivered at the way the word ‘pleasures’ rolled off of Simon’s tongue. He had made the word purr. 

“It’s time.” Another man announced from the side. Simon nodded and turned back to One.

“When the curtain draws back, count to fifteen before you start playing.” Simon instructed, gently he squeezed One’s wrist and walked off to the side. One looked after Simon and noted the guards positioned on either side of the stage. They stood with guns drawn and aimed in his direction. One wouldn’t be making a daring escape that night. With a sigh One settled himself down on the piano bench and waited. 

The curtain peeled back and panic flooded into One as he stared out at the crowd. All eyes were on him. Relax, One told himself. He thought back to Three’s words. Just play. 

After a quick count to fifteen One focused on the piece of music and started to play. The nerves melted away as he started to pretend that it was just Three in the room with him. A friend – or the closest thing to a friend One had. 

No strangers. No risks if he made any mistakes. The tension slipped away as One let go and allowed his fingers to read the music for him. The notes danced in the air. Soaring and spiraling until the last note sang out and slowly died. 

Silence fell over the room. One froze, wondering if he had done poorly and just hadn’t realized it. Panic choked One until the room broke into applause. Relief broke through One as he stood, unsure of what to do he glanced off stage towards Simon who demonstrated a bow. Taking a breath One looked forward and mimicked Simon’s movements to the audience. 

After he bowed, One glanced towards Simon for another cue on what to do. Relief squeezed One’s heart when the guard motioned for him to walk off stage. With conscious slowness, One strolled off the stage. It was small victory, given how much One wanted to run to safety. 

“You did well.” Simon’s ever present smile greeted him when One looked up. Too close and slightly uncomfortable, but still appreciated more than the business end of a gun. 

“Thank you.” One nodded shyly. 

Simon beamed back, but One saw his expression held more than just simple kindness. “You deserve something,” Simon decided. “Before Madame decides if you need punishment.” 

One swallowed down his unease, wondering if he could do what Three expected.

“We can even ditch our two friends.” Simon motioned to his companions who glanced at one another, but nodded. One didn’t like anything about the proposition, but nodded tightly. This could be his chance – although he honestly had no idea what the code was to the lock on the cell. 

Simon smiled again and took One gently by the wrist. “I think you’ll enjoy what I have to show you.” He told One who nodded stiffly and allowed himself to be led away from the other guards and into the empty hallway. They were going to an unfamiliar area of the ship, which in the back of One’s mind he knew was a good thing. 

“You know, you’ve been here for a few days and I haven’t learned your name.” Simon tried casually to spark a conversation. 

“One.” 

“One what?” Simon pressed with a smile. 

“One is my name,” One explained. 

Simon raised an eyebrow but slowly accepted it. “Unique. And, if I remember, you call your friend Three?” 

“Yes.” One answered, but didn’t elaborate. 

“I’m sure there is an interesting story behind that.” Simon smiled. “Maybe in time you will share it with me.” 

It would be a cold day in hell when that happened, One vowed silently. He watched the changes in the hall, trying to record it all to memory. He didn’t see anything that looked like a shuttle bay, but that didn’t mean that one didn’t exist. A ship of this size with as many passengers as it held, several shuttle bays would be required. 

Most likely the shuttle bays were disguised to keep the passengers minds off the possibility of a ship wide disaster. 

“In here.” Simon motioned to a door and opened it with a grin. Inside One’s eyes widened when he saw a swimming pool. He hadn’t seen one of these before – at least not since the memory wipe. It took a moment for One’s mind to place what it was and what it was used for. 

“There are a few on the ship.” Simon explained. “This is my personal favorite.” 

One could see why. The room had been transformed into a tropical paradise. Surrounding the elegantly curved pool were plants, flowers, trees and a rock formation with a rushing waterfall pouring into the pool. The sound of birds singing and the water lapping made One feel like he’d stepped off the ship, but he knew he hadn’t. It was all fake. 

“We shouldn’t be disturbed in here.” Simon promised. 

“I can’t swim.” One said suddenly. As soon as he’d realized what Simon was planning the fear had hit him. Although, One reasoned, it could be the fear of what else Simon might have planned for the evening. 

Simon’s smile grew brighter. “Then I’ll teach you.” 

One hesitated, but Three’s words echoed in his head. He needed to show Simon that he could be trusted, and, in turn, trust Simon. This was perfect – and horrible. Slowly One stripped out of his suit jacket. 

With a smile Simon removed his guard uniform piece by piece until he stood naked in front of One, who had just revealed his chest, his hands hesitating at the zipper of his pants. 

“I’ve already seen everything.” Simon reminded One, who blushed. “No need to be shy.” 

Still reluctant, One shed the last of his clothing and allowed himself to be led to the steps of the pool. One was silent as the water started to climb from toe to ankle and up passed his knees to his waist. 

“See, not so bad.” Simon smiled – he was always smiling. One swallowed and nodded. “Now, I’ll let you in on a little secret. If your lungs are inflated, you’ll float, so what you want to do is take in deep breaths without exhaling completely.”

One nodded, but made no move forward as he stared out across the expanse of water to the waterfall. A hand slipped around his waist gently and One nearly jumped out of his skin. 

Simon met his gaze and smiled reassuringly. “I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to do.” One looked back at Simon and felt – comforted. He believed Simon. Simon’s stormy eyes held only sincerity when they looked back at One. Throughout their time together the only time Simon had hurt One was because he was ordered to, not because he wanted to. In fact, Simon hadn’t seemed to enjoy being the one to exact Madame’s punishment. 

“Okay.” One nodded. “I trust you. I think, I can trust you.” 

“Good.” Simon grinned and placed his hands on One’s bare waist. “Now, let’s teach you how to swim!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to my Beta, Amber_Flicker

As they reached the door to One’s room – cell, it was still a cell – Simon leaned close. “I had fun tonight.” 

One blushed, his hair had been toweled off, but beads of water still tickled down the back of his neck. “Me too.” He managed to squeeze from of his very tight throat. He was nervous, mostly because he was scared that Simon was going to try and kiss him. One was also terrified because he almost wanted Simon to kiss him. 

The feeling bubbled inside of him. Affection was something he craved. He’d tried with Two, but she wasn’t exactly receptive to romance. Three – well, Three had made his stand clear when he told One to not ‘cringe’ if Simon grabbed his ass. He wasn’t interested. They were friends – barely friends. 

It was nice to have someone who was mostly kind interested in him. Even though it was a completely horrible choice that could only lead to bad things. One frowned to himself as met Simon’s gaze. 

Simon offered a small nod before he turned to punch the code into the keypad. Four, Two, Two, Six, Nine, Seven, Zero, Nine, Two – but the last two numbers were blocked from One’s view.

“Goodnight.” Simon said as he looked back at One. 

“Goodnight.” One echoed with a timid smile. They hesitated for a moment, each trying to read the other. Finally Simon nodded again with acceptance and opened the door for One. 

Once the escape presented itself, One nodded back and willingly stepped into the room. Cell. 

The door closed behind One and he sighed. Three was waiting for him, arms crossed and expression stern as he got up from the chair. “How long does it take to play a freaking song?” 

“Song?” One blinked at Three, not sure why the man was so angry. “Oh, that was done hours ago.” 

“Why is your hair wet?” Three ignored One’s inability to catch up with the conversation. “They brought food, but you didn’t come back.” 

Was that concern? One frowned. “I was with Simon.” One explained. Badly. 

“Simon.” Three narrowed his eyes. “Doing?” 

One couldn’t stop the blush from creeping back onto his cheeks. “He taught me how to swim.” 

“Swim.” Three scowled. Whatever concern One had thought he’d witness had vanished. “Great. You’re off having the time of your life with your new boyfriend and I’m stuck here. This isn’t a vacation One!” 

One’s happy feeling died as he stared back at Three. “I – I wasn’t – I know that!” 

“Yeah? Well act like it!” Three snapped and stormed off towards the bed. 

“You told me to win his trust!” One accused angrily. “I was just – ”

“Canoodling with the enemy.” Three interrupted and threw an apple at One’s face. One barely redirected it before it smacked him in the forehead. The apple struck the wall instead and bounced with a thud to the ground. One was momentarily surprised at Three’s choice of words, but the meaning hit home hard. Simon was the enemy. Of course he was, but – 

One looked at the apple and then glared at Three. “I was doing what you told me to do!” 

“Did you figure out a way out of here?” Three asked. 

One dropped his shoulders and shook his head. “Not yet. But he took me to a different part of the ship. I think the shuttle bays are hidden. This is some sort of cruise ship. With the amount of people onboard this ship – ”

“You’re useless.” Three said with a huff and flopped down on the bed. “Eat something and get some sleep.”

One frowned. He felt guilty. He didn’t know why he felt guilty, but he did. Not hungry, One picked up the apple and set it down on the table next to the tray of uneaten food. Three’s back faced One on the bed – One assumed the other man had gone to sleep. One glanced at the cold metal floor and strongly considered spending the night there, but comfort and warmth were something too necessary to give up. 

One disregarded the food. He crawled carefully onto the bed and gave Three one last look before he turned his back and faced the wall. Tired, One drifted away.  
__

Hours later One woke to the feeling of hands wrapped around his neck. Blurry eyes snapped open and focused through smeared vision on Three’s face hovering above him. Three’s legs straddled over One’s body, pinning him to the bed. One tried to form a protest, but Three’s fingers squeezed tighter. The realization that Three was going to kill him hit One like a slap across the face. Anger burned in every feature of Three’s body, but his eyes – something was off about his eyes. 

“Three – ” One gasped, his own hands reflectively moved to try and detach Three’s fingers from around his throat. They fumbled, uncoordinated as One fought to breathe as normally as possible. Panic would be bad – something told One that panic would be bad. Three tightened his grip, cutting off any further sound. Panic was impossible to fight. One’s heart thundered in his chest. 

“Not going to hurt them.” Three growled menacingly down at One and leaned in closer. “Won’t let you – you son of a bitch! I won’t – ” 

One choked in response – the only sound he could make while his windpipe was crushed. Weakly he tried to buck Three off of him, but the man was steadfast. 

Grey started to leak into One’s vision, black fireworks sparked. Finally something passed over Three’s murderous expression and shifted into confusion, then shock as his hands released. One immediately inhaled, turned and coughed violently as his lungs rejected the fresh air. 

“One – ” Three started, his hand reached out and touched One’s shaking shoulder. At the contact, One flinched and rolled to the very edge of the bed and continued to struggle to breathe.

“Don’t.” One coughed. “Touch me.” 

Three nodded his head and moved back. Perching on the far edge of the bed – as far away from One as possible without standing. “One.” Three repeated, mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find his next words. One rubbed at his neck in an attempt to relieve the tightness that still plagued him. He watched Three, searching for signs that he might still be in danger. 

The second attack never came. 

“You were dreaming?” One guessed after the original fear and shock started to fade away. 

“Yeah.” Three breathed, he sounded just as out of breath as One. “I thought you were – someone else. I swear I – ” 

“Who?” One pushed the word through sore vocal chords. It hurt like hell. The pain seemed to be getting worse instead of better.

Three shook his head and stood to pace. “I – I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“You nearly killed me.” One whispered, mostly because he wasn’t able to push enough sound to talk louder. 

The pacing stopped and Three scratched the back of his head. He refused to look directly at One. His eyes focused just about anywhere else. “I thought you were that douche, Wexler.” 

“The guy who spaced Two?” One wheezed. 

Three looked purposefully away and nodded. “Yeah – the same guy who tortured you.” 

One didn’t answer verbally, mostly because his lungs and throat weren’t happy with the idea of being used so soon after the trauma they had endured. 

It was a shock to hear. Three was still having nightmares about the take over. Sure, sometimes One had the occasional bad dream, but they were no where near the level of intensity that Three seemed to suffer through. 

“You dream about – every night?” One asked brokenly. Painful and soft with concern. 

“That – and other things.” Three admitted reluctantly. Regret filled his eyes as he finally looked back at One. “I didn’t mean – I’m – look, I’m sorry.” 

One relaxed a little more at the apology, but remained unsure of how to fix Three. The guilt was slowly creeping up on him as well. Irrational fear had made One believe that Three had truly wanted to kill him in that first moment when he had woken up. In the past they hadn’t always gotten along, but One felt a little shameful that he actually believed Three had intended to kill him. “It’s not your fault.” One managed to croak through his damaged throat. It sounded like he had tried to swallow glass and the words were shredded before they rolled off his tongue. 

“Just,” Three moved his arms in a dramatic motion. “Stop talking, you’re making my throat hurt.” 

One nodded stiffly, wincing at the pain the motion caused. Slowly he moved off the bed and gingerly sat in the chair by the desk. He needed the distance. 

“I’m,” Three deflated as his hands fell to his side. “I’m not going to hurt you.” 

One nodded again, not willing to try and speak. 

“This is bad.” Three moved closer, but stopped when One flinched at the unexpected movement. “You’re throat’s swelling, something might be wrong. I should, call for help, or something?” 

One shook his head and coughed, unable to protest verbally. He didn’t want Three to bring attention to this. What if the guards decided to separate them? What if Madame decided Three wasn’t worth the trouble he caused? One didn’t want to be alone and he also didn’t want anything bad to happen to Three. 

“What? We have to get you help.” Three argued – One shook his hand in a negative motion – because shaking his head proved to irritate his throat and made his head throb. Three narrowed his eyes, but deflated again. “Yeah, well, you better not die.” 

One gave a slight nod and offered the smallest of smiles. Three still looked distressed. Unhappy with the decision, but there weren’t enough people to vote. Just two guys in a crappy situation. 

“On the bright side.” Three slowly moved closer to One. He kept his hands up and in plain sight. “At least they don’t want you to sing.” 

A small sound bubbled and escaped One when he tried to laugh. 

“Shh,” Three scolded and reached out a hand, his fingers brushed against One’s bruised neck. One coughed and forced himself not to move away from gentle fingers. “Maybe if you don’t talk the swelling will go down.” 

One gave Three a pointed look, but shrugged his shoulder. It wasn’t like One wanted to talk – it hurt too much. 

“Look,” Three spoke again after the silence persisted. “Why don’t you lay down again – try and rest? I’ll sleep on the floor.” 

One frowned back at him. The odds were in favor of Three not attacking him again. It had been a fluke caused by bad dreams and stress. One gave Three a ‘don’t be an idiot’ look, and motioned to the bed. 

“But what if I – ?”

One cut him off with a snap of his fingers and pointed a finger at the bed. 

“Fine.” Three gave in as they both crawled back onto the mattress. “But if I end up killing you this time don’t expect me to feel sorry about it.” 

One snorted and winced with regret for making the sound. As he lay down next to Three One forced himself to relax. It wasn’t easy.

“And just for the record.” Three broke the silence as they lay side by side. “I didn’t have these nightmares before – it’s just being here.” Silence surrounded them. One took a few steady breaths as he waited. Three continued. “I feel out of control – I can’t stop what happens to you. Just like I couldn’t stop it then.” 

One turned to face Three slowly. “Be okay.” One managed to croak past his throat – he had planned for there to be more words, but they were lost somewhere between the back of One’s throat and the tip of his tongue. The point was clear enough. 

Three sighed, but nodded as he stared up at the ceiling. “Yeah. Hopefully.”  
__

The next day started as the ones before it had, with Simon and his two shadows opening the door. One’s eyes snapped open at the intrusion and he groaned when he tried to get up, his throat was sore, but he didn’t think it felt as swollen as it did just after Three had strangled him. 

Simon’s eyes fixed on One’s throat just as he was about to say something. The distraction ended whatever word had formed on the guard’s tongue and he sputtered for a moment before he tossed an accusing glare at Three. 

“Not – ” One managed to squeak out the lonely word only to break into a fit of painful coughs. It was clear that One was unable to defend Three with his bruised vocal chords. One just hoped Three didn’t get himself spaced. 

Three sighed. “We had a little accident.” He explained poorly. 

“Clearly.” Simon said and moved towards One, who flinched back before he really thought about what he was doing. Simon paused and tossed another berating glance towards Three. “I’m here at Madame’s request, to administer the punishment for last nights transgressions.” 

One ducked his head a little – he’d hoped that when Simon had left him alone last night that it had meant he wouldn’t be punished. Apparently he was wrong. 

A gentle hand brushed under One’s chin to tip it upwards. Simon’s calm silver eyes looked back at him. “Only seven marks.” He promised softly. “I’m sorry you have to go through more pain.” The words were more directed at Three who shot Simon a childish expression. 

One nodded mutely and stood, unbuttoning his shirt until his chest was bear except for the bandages, which were quickly removed. Simon started at the point where the first punishment stopped. The first cut made One jump and hiss, but he was more prepared for the second through seventh. When Simon was done be patted One’s shoulder gently and moved to stand in front of One, placing himself between One and Three. 

“If you need, I can move you to a different room.” Simon whispered in One’s ear. “Or remove him from the ship entirely.” The last part was said a bit louder, for Three’s benefit.

One glanced over Simon’s shoulder at Three, who had paled two shades despite his attempts to look bored. It was hard to explain without being able to speak, but One looked back into Simon’s concerned eyes and shook his head. No, he didn’t want to move. No, he never wanted to be separated from Three – at least not for long. 

“If you’re sure.” Simon’s words were unsure. 

With a quick breath, One nodded sharply. Positive. Sure. 

“Okay.” Simon backed down and motioned towards the guard at the door. Two trays were presented and left for the two captives. “You will be allowed to practice later.” Simon gave One another look before he and his fellow guards left the room. 

“Well, he seems to really like you.” Three grumbled as One moved to pick up the trays of food and turned back to face his companion. One rolled his eyes, sticking to non-verbal language. Although his throat didn’t feel as swollen as the night before, it still hurt to talk. 

The food looked good, but One still didn’t feel overly hungry as he set them on the bed between Three and him. 

“Look,” Three broke the silence again. One smirked, he was starting to believe that Three felt uncomfortable when everything was quiet. “We need to focus on getting off this ship. We both know the Raza will show up eventually, but, they aren’t coming fast enough.” 

One gave a slow nod. 

“I think I can over power those guards.” Three said as One nibbled on a roll of bread. One frowned and shook his head, but Three held up a hand. “They’re getting lazy. Barely even aiming when they come to the room. They think I won’t attack, so when I do, it’ll be a surprise.” 

One shook his head again. “Too risky.” He managed to whisper, which earned him a sharp glare. 

“Don’t talk, remember?” Three chided. One sighed and Three continued. “It’s better then waiting around while that Simon guy seduces you.” He huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. One arched an eyebrow and Three snorted in his direction. “Not that I care. You can stay here and live the rest of your life with that creep for all I care. I, however, want off this ship.” 

With a roll of his eyes One threw the rest of the bread at Three who barely had time to catch it. He followed up the action with a, ‘don’t be an idiot’ expression. 

“Fine.” Three groaned and finished off the roll without really thinking about it. “But we need to do something. And fast.” 

That was something One could agree with. However, it was hard to make a plan when one of the planners couldn’t speak. With a wince One picked up a carrot and started to nibble on that as Three spoke. He talked in circles, never really coming up with anything workable as a plan. The truth was, they didn’t have much to go on.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special Thanks To My Beta: Amber_Flicker

Later when they were left in the practice room, Three rehashed the idea of escape. One could guess why Three suddenly needed to escape, but it still didn’t sit well. After all One had been through, he wanted to escape too. Maybe that was why he didn’t try and argue. Well, too much. 

“If we both attack when they go to put on the cuffs we can overpower them.” Three decided despite One’s glares and silent protests. There had to be a more covert way of handling this. Three was adamant. “No, it’ll work. We just need to work together. It’s only one guy with a gun. I’ll take him out first, you get Simon and by the time you’re done with lover boy, I’ll have taken out the last guard. This is a good plan.” 

It was a terrible plan. 

One sighed and shook his head again. “No.” He gargled the word painfully. “Dangerous.” He managed the second word a little better. 

“Any way we try to escape is going to be dangerous!” Three pointed out. “And stop talking.” He added with a finger stabbed in One’s shoulder. One rubbed the spot that had been poked and glared. With a huff he moved over to the piano to start to play. 

“Hey, you don’t need to practice,” Three growled. 

“Nothing – else, to do.” One croaked with a shrug. 

Three paused, but nodded. “Fine.” He rolled his eyes and flopped down on one of the puffy pink couches. 

One turned back to the keys. He ran through the song he was supposed to play that night. It was complex, but not at the level of the previous compositions. After One had finished he paused to consider whether or not he needed to play through the song twice. Curiosity distracted One. He wondered what he could do if he just played. No notes to guide him. 

This was his last chance to play. The Raza didn’t have a piano and likely never would. A piano was useless and took up space. Two would never agree to bringing one onboard. And of course, there was also the possibility that they would never escape. Not alive, anyway.

With closed eyes One started to play – letting his fingers remember for him. They danced and the song filled the room. Heavy and sad tones mixed with the stronger, gentler hums. 

“Is that the same song?” Three asked after a while. One shook his head and continued to let his fingers float over the keys. “It’s – kind of nice.” Three mumbled and One smiled in return. “Are you making it up?” Three asked and One answered with a shrug and a nod. “Who knew you actually had some kind of talent.” Three laughed and One threw a playful frown in his direction. 

The door opened, breaking the light mood. One’s fingers stumbled and stopped as he glanced back at Simon. This was it. The moment that One had been dreading ever since Three had suggested that this was their time to escape. It wasn’t that One didn’t want to hurt Simon – he didn’t, but that wasn’t the reason for hesitation. The escape felt rushed. One thought they needed a better plan. They still didn’t know where the shuttles were located and they were out manned and in an unfamiliar place. 

Of course One couldn’t protest. It was too late.

“Time to go.” Simon motioned them forward. One nodded and stood. He glanced at the man holding the gun. Only one of the guards bothered to draw his weapon this time. Maybe Three was right. Maybe they would escape. 

Or maybe they’d have had a better chance if One could actually fight well. One took a breath as Simon moved to clasp the cuffs over his wrist. He glanced at Three and Three nodded. 

In a burst of motion the two Raza men struck – and failed. Before Three had even thrown a decent punch a ball of blue electricity had struck him in the chest. One had barely flinched his hands back from Simon when it happened. 

“Three.” He gasped and moved to kneel beside the fallen man until Simon dragged him back. 

“He acted foolishly.” Simon tried to console One, who was terrified that Three was dead. One struggled to get back to Three’s side when Simon tightened his grip and pulled One further away. “He’s fine. For now.” 

One stopped struggling and looked directly at Simon, his mute question written on his face. 

Unhappy, Simon pointed at the gun aimed in One’s direction. “It’s a stunner. Non-lethal. I’m afraid that won’t save him from punishment.” 

One thought of the knife and wondered if it would be the same. 

“A little harsher than that.” Simon read One’s mind. “He’ll be lashed and locked away in solitary until we dock. I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep this from Madame. She won’t be pleased, I can’t guarantee either of your lives at this point.” 

“No.” One croaked painfully and shook his head. He couldn’t afford to be separated from Three. “Didn’t – wasn’t his fault.” If only he could talk – explain things to Simon. Simon would listen, if he knew the whole story. Maybe Simon would even help them escape – if only One could form the words!

“He tried to escape.” Simon argued, his grip on One’s arm was going to leave a hand print shaped bruise. “He ruined everything.” 

“Please.” One pleaded. “I’ll – do anything.” Even though the words were gargled and splintered after they made their way through One’s throat, the hidden meaning was clear. One would do anything – anything at all.

Simon’s face fell. “I would never take advantage – ” He breathed and shook his head. “I – I won’t be swayed. I am loyal. I do my job – even when it’s not pleasant. I just hope you both live long enough to learn from this.” 

Panic filled One as he realized there was nothing he could do for Three – or himself. He’d be alone and Three would be alone – in pain. “Please?” One fell against Simon. “Please.” 

With a harsh shove One was pushed into the other guard’s waiting arms. “Take the pianist back to his room.” Simon ordered. “We’ll deal with this one.” 

“No!” One struggled, but was held steadfast by the guard he’d been tossed to. Despite One’s efforts to stop it from happening, he was dragged from the room – away from Three. 

The guard in charge of him wasn’t exactly as nice as Simon, or as gentle. When One resisted, the man dug his fingers into the cuts on One’s back to stun him and twisted his arms into the cuffs. Unable to fight, One pleaded all the way down the hall, hoping that Simon would have a change of heart. He didn’t. One was tossed back into the cell and left there. Alone. 

Terrified, One paced, unable to rest. The constant movement irritated his head, the wounds on his back and his eyes burned blurry. He hoped that Simon would return with Three. His hopes were dashed when Simon’s henchmen returned to collect him for Cezor to dress. There was no sign of Simon. 

“I won’t play.” One announced when they started towards him. They paused and one tipped his head to the side. 

“If you don’t play, you and your friend won’t have any value.” The guard told One. “You will both be spaced.” 

“You could have had a good life,” The guard with the gun spoke up as the first secured the cuffs around One’s wrists. “If you had obeyed.” 

“Simon – ” 

“Has other responsibilities tonight.”

“My friend – ” One desperately wanted to know how Three was, but the guards simply glared. “Please, is he alright?” 

“His welfare should not concern you now.” The man with the gun hissed. “Come, there is a schedule.” 

“I won’t play.” One dodged the grasp of the closest guard. 

“Then you will both die.” The man growled and finally grabbed hold of One and pinned him against the wall behind him. One struggled, but lost the fight. The cuffs were once again secured around his wrist and he was dragged to Cezor. 

Once dressed, Madame entered the room wearing another fancy dress and a murderous scowl. “You’ve made a grave mistake, boy.” The woman told One as she stalked towards him. One bravely held his ground. Her hand shot out, slapping One across the face. The blow knocked One off balance, but he managed to keep his legs under him. “How dare you attack my guards?” 

One flinched at her words, but kept silent. He needed to be smart about this. He needed to figure out how to make things right. He needed to protect Three. “It was a misunderstanding.” The words scraped from his raw throat. “Please, I beg your forgiveness, Madame.” 

The woman paused, but the snarl remained on her lips. 

“Don’t think a simple apology will make this better for you, child.” Madame snapped her finger at one of the guards. “He will be punished, but wait until after he preforms. Do what you need to in order to break his rebellious spirit him without making him completely useless. Be creative.” She refocused on One who shivered under her narrowed gaze. “Perhaps if you please me with your performance tonight I won’t kill you or your useless friend. But mark my words, you will regret this night.” 

Threat made clear, Madame turned and stormed out of the room. One’s heart raced as he watched her go. Everything was spiraling out of control. The added stress made One’s head spin. If he didn’t play well, Three would die.

Numb, One allowed himself to be guided from the room and down the hall. One was taken to the concert dinning hall and his hands were released. 

“Play.” The guard told him. “Play or we will make you watch as we space your friend like a piece of trash.” 

Weakly One nodded, unable to resist. The fight was gone. All that mattered was this performance. One sat at the piano bench and waited for his cue. 

The curtains parted and One counted to fifteen before he started the song. It felt robotic, hollow. The joy One had felt when he had first played back at the club had vanished. That feeling earlier that day when he had played for the sake of playing was gone. 

By the time the song ended One had let the despair of the entire situation settle. He might never see Three again. The applause started and One stood on numb legs. He mimicked the bow from the previous night and glanced off stage with a heavy heart. The cuffs were reattached to his wrists and the guard with the gun smirked. 

“Good boy.” The guard told him with a pat to the head. “You know, I can see what appealed to Simon.” The man tipped his head to the side. “A pretty face like yours, it’s hard to resist.” 

The second guard snickered. “You see, we’ve been playing nice – for Simon. The guy is a romantic sap.” 

“But,” the first guard grinned. “Simon’s not here anymore.” 

“Madame is very displeased with you.” The second guard continued. 

“She told us to be – creative, with our punishment.” The first one reminded One. 

The threat twisted in One’s stomach as he was lead from the performance hall back down to Cezor. He was forced to change in front of the guards before being taken to the cell. Once there One had a sinking feeling his two guards weren’t just going to leave. He was right. The first guard shut the door while the second tossed One back on the bed. One fought, but was outnumbered and outweighed. 

Three wasn’t there to protect One and One couldn’t save himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided not to make you guys wait another day. Enjoy!  
> Again, special thanks to my Beta, Amber_Flicker!

Just as the two guards had successfully pinned One to the bed the door broke open behind them. Shots were fired, the sound sharp and deafening in the small space. Warm blood splattered over the side of One’s face as the guard who had been unfastening his pants fell on top of him. 

“One.” Two’s voice called as Six pulled the dead body off of him. “Are you hurt?” 

One stared at her, shaky arms lifted himself upright. His wrists were still in the cuffs, which made the movement awkward. Panic seized him once he realized he was safe, but he still didn’t know where Three was. “Three!” 

“Four’s got him. He told us where we could find you.” Six explained as Two checked One over. Six found the keys to the cuffs and freed One’s hands. 

“They strangled you?” Two asked. Her fingertips brushed against the bruised skin. Their gazes met and Two’s widened. “Your – your eyes!”

“I’m fine.” One looked confused, but couldn’t think straight – his heart was still racing and he couldn’t help but worry about Simon. But why? The man had hurt him, enslaved him and separated Three from him. Three was safe, which was a relief, but One still wondered about Simon. 

“We should go.” Six clutched his gun nervously. His eyes were fixed on One’s eyes as well. “If we wait too long the people will start venturing out from the dinning hall.” 

One stood with Two’s assistance and the trio made their way down the hall. One kept quiet and ignored the side-glances he received from his crewmates. There was nothing he could do about his eyes – or anything else. 

“In here.” Six motioned as he touched a wall and opened a secret door. 

“Five hacked the system and found the ship’s blueprints.” Two explained as they walked into the hidden shuttle bay. “After that it was just a matter of sneaking onboard and figuring out where you two were. Five gave us some device and we tapped into the security feeds. It was pretty easy after that.” 

Four and Three were waiting inside the Marauder. Three sagged sideways in one of the seats, pain lines etched in his face as he watched One enter the ship. One’s eyes held so many questions that never materialized on his tongue. 

“Sit down.” Two broke the moment and gently guided One into a chair. 

Six took the controls as the others strapped in. 

One caught Four as the man noticed his eyes. Thankfully whatever questions the man held remained secret. 

“I thought you might be dead.” Three said as casually as he could muster as the ship started to pull out of the bay. 

“I thought you might be dead too.” One replied quietly as he allowed himself to finally start to relax. “Simon?” 

“Didn’t make it.” Three eyed One for a response. One felt numb. He shouldn’t care if the man was dead or alive, but – he did. “I’m fine, by the way.” 

“You don’t look fine.” One said without making eye contact. 

Three was quiet for a moment and then snorted. “Yeah.” He agreed. “I guess that mean’s we’re both fucked up.” 

The rest of the flight was made in silence. Two insisted they both go straight to the infirmary. One didn’t resist. All his resistance had already been drained out of him. Three complained, but One could tell it was mostly for show. 

As it turned out, Three had only received half of his ‘punishment’ from Simon. Four’s arrival had cut the lashing short. Apparently Simon had wanted Three to be conscious so he could be aware of the pain and the stunner was slow to wear off. 

“Oh,” Android paused as she scanned One. “You’ve done something different to your eyes.” 

“He didn’t have anything to do with it.” Three hissed from his bed. He was sitting up, unable to lay down due to his newly acquired injuries. One looked at Three and then averted his gaze from anyone. He felt suddenly self-conscious about it. Before, it hadn’t really been that big of a deal. Three had gotten over it pretty quickly and had even helped him get over it. It wasn’t like One had spent a lot of time looking at his own reflection. One probably would need to get used to his new eyes as well, but he hadn’t had a lot of time to think about it. 

The others stiffened at Three’s revelation, but thankfully no one asked any more questions. One would have ignored them. 

“The bruising around your neck did a little damage.” Android commented. “But with rest it should heal up fine. You may feel a bit of discomfort when you speak. You also appear to have a low grade fever.” Android frowned. “Although I’m not certain what is causing it.” 

“Check his back.” Three grumbled and One glared. He didn’t like being on display in front of the crew – it was bad enough when he had been on display in front of complete strangers. 

“Why don’t we give them some space?” Two announced, thankfully reading One’s mind – or his unhappy expression. 

Four, Five and Six nodded and slowly walked from the room. Two hesitated with a glance at both men. “Do you want me to stay?” 

“No.” One whispered without looking at her. 

“Did you get my guns?” Three interrupted before she could leave. Two looked at him with a raised eyebrow, but nodded. 

“Yes, Briant was very forthcoming – when correctly motivated.” Two smiled. “We have your coms too. I’ll bring them by later.” 

“Thanks.” Three flashed a twisted grin. Two gave a last glance towards One before she left the room. 

Slowly One unbuttoned his shirt and with the Android’s help, unwrapped the bandages. Since Android wasn’t human, she didn’t react like most would. Her eyes took in the series of small lines etched into One’s skin in a clinical way. 

“Some of these small wounds show signs of infection.” Android announced needlessly. “We should be able to treat them with antibiotic cream. I will also give you something to lower your temperature.” 

“Fine.” One mumbled his consent. 

Three raised an eyebrow, but shook his head. “All that hard work I put into keeping those damned wounds clean and you go and get them infected.” 

The complaint raised One’s mood enough for him to give a flicker of a half-smile. “Sorry.” He said. 

“Not accepted.” Three grunted half-heartedly and at the Android’s prompting undid his own shirt. The lashes weren’t as bad as One had envisioned. They hadn’t even broken the skin – but deep bruises were already forming. Three’s back would be dark purple when everything was settled. 

“These should heal on their own.” Android told Three. “However, I can apply a cream that will numb the discomfort significantly.” 

“Fine.” Three agreed with a grunt and allowed Android to work her magic. 

“Can we go?” One asked when it looked like Android had finally finished with them. His wounds were hidden once more and he had just slipped the last button of his shirt into place. 

Three gave him an odd look and Android looked a little offended. “Yes. I don’t see any reason to keep either of you here. If you do start to feel worse, please let me know.” 

“Thanks.” One mumbled and lowered himself off the table. Three finished pulling on his own shirt and followed. 

“Food?” Three suggested off-handedly. They both knew what waited for them in the mess hall. At least One had a pretty good reason to let Three fill the others in on what had happened to them. With a mute nod, One agreed. 

__

“So, I might have gotten a little too friendly with one of the girls at the club.” Three started their story. “In my defense, she was throwing herself at me.” He breezed through the tale casually as they ate together. Of course Three left out bits in pieces. Like Simon and the nightmares. It was all impersonal – some even fabricated to make it sound far more interesting than it was. Two and Six asked questions while One caught Five staring at him a few times. 

Of course, Three had been in the room most of the time, so eventually, One needed to fill in some blanks. “They had some sort of plastic surgeon on the ship. Apparently my eyes weren’t pretty enough.” One shrugged off their questions. 

“Is it – permanent?” Six asked. 

“I guess.” One glanced towards the door. He wanted to leave, let them figure things out without him. There were so many things he needed to think through without an audience. 

“I think they are kind of pretty.” Five piped up. Her positivity felt misplaced, but One offered her a reflection of a smile. 

“We can figure out how to change them back.” Two offered. 

The memory of the needles piercing through his eyes was enough to make One shake his head. If he could help it, he’d never go through that again. “No. I’d rather just leave them be.” 

“On the bright side,” Three spoke up, redirecting the attention back to him. “If we ever run into the real Jace Corso again we’ll be able to tell them apart.” Silence followed the positive spin on the situation and Three frowned. “Well, don’t everyone get too excited.” 

Two glanced at Five and One noted the tension in her shoulders. She had another question to ask, but wanted to wait until Five wasn’t around. One frowned, he could guess what that question was. She wanted to know about what they had walked in on – if it had happened before. 

“You stopped the only attempt.” One answered for her. Two met his gaze and slowly relaxed with a nod. 

“What now?” Three asked, eyes narrowed. 

“Nothing.” One breathed and stood. “I’m kind of tired.” He announced. “I think I’ll turn in.” 

The others seemed reluctant, but let him leave their crew meeting. 

Later that night One lay alone in his bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling. He felt numb and chaotic all at the same time. He was unsure how he could have so many feelings and yet at the same time, none at all. It was a push-pull situation. Waves of emotion followed by moments of complete and utter nothingness. 

Sleep whispered to One, but he couldn’t seem to find it as he waited in the dark. 

The door of his room slid open and One glanced over to find Three shuffling across his floor. Three looked as tired as One felt. One was surprised to see his cellmate – he’d figured Three would keep his distance now that they were free. Three crawled onto the bed and One moved, automatically making room for the other man. Three glared, but settled. 

“I’ll leave if you tell me to.” Three said. 

“It’s fine.” One managed. It felt better, now that he wasn’t alone. Or maybe, it felt better now that Three was with him. 

“Well,” Three shrugged a shoulder. “Don’t go making a big deal about it.” 

One smirked up at the ceiling. “I wasn’t going to.” 

“Good.” Three shifted awkwardly next to him. “I’m sorry.” 

“About?” One asked, although he had a few guesses. None of the options warranted Three’s apology. 

“Simon.” Three answered, revealing One’s top choice. 

“I don’t know why I’m so upset.” One admitted. “I suppose it’s some form of Stockholm syndrome. I shouldn’t care that he died. He didn’t mean anything to me. It’s not like we were friends. We weren’t friends. He could have stopped so many things from happening – and he didn’t. If he really cared about me, he would have helped us escape. I asked him – when you were stunned. He – chose not to help. I shouldn’t care what happened to him. I shouldn’t care.” 

Three remained silent – One eventually checked to see if the other man had fallen asleep. 

Three hadn’t. His blue eyes had locked with One’s gaze. “I think he might have been able to protect you better than I did. If you had let him. If I hadn’t been stunned.” 

“What?” One frowned. “You couldn’t have – ”

“I know.” Three shrugged a shoulder and avoided looking back at One. “If it wasn’t for him, I think it would have been worse. For the both of us. So – maybe it’s not that wrong to wish he hadn’t died.” 

“Do you?” One asked. “Wish he hadn’t died?”

“I’m glad he’s dead.” Three said. “I wish I had been the one to kill the bastard. But, he wasn’t protecting me.” 

“I don’t know what to feel.” One admitted quietly. “He didn’t really protect me. If he had protected me – ”

“I know.” Came Three’s sleepy response. 

“So, what do we do now?” One asked after another stretch of silence. 

“Go to sleep, I guess.” Three said. “So shut the hell up.” 

One smiled and nodded. “Sounds reasonable.” 

“Glad we can agree on something.” Three whispered, half asleep.

“Agree to agree.” One said and turned towards Three as the man drifted into a peaceful sleep. Now that they were free hopefully the nightmares would stop. With that thought in mind One allowed himself to let go of his worries and follow Three into the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it!!! (maybe)
> 
> You guys might not hear from me in a while. Kind of haven't been writing lately. 
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me~

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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